Touch Me Fall
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: What will it take to rekindle a flame? Will/Karen inspired by the Indigo Girls song of the same name. Now complete.
1. Repeating History

September 1999

She went to him now to feel beautiful. She went to him now to feel loved. She went to him now despite the chance of getting caught—someone could walk in and see it all, let her husband know of her betrayal, but even with all of this, she didn't care. She went to him now to feel that every move she made never went unappreciated; he seemed grateful for the flip of her hair, the arch of her brow, the tilt of her head as her fingers run down his chest. She went to him now to feel validated, to feel that yes, she was a real person who could be seen and heard. She went to him now to feel alive, that her body wasn't just going through the motions of life in order to trick everyone on the outside.

But most of all, she went to him now because she went to him five years ago, and he gave her no reason to stop trusting him when it ended.

They betrayed other people, leaving everything they built with them in the wake, but they never betrayed each other. They held nothing back. They kept telling themselves that it couldn't last forever, and in the end, they were right, never promising anything they couldn't deliver. That was the only rule they had; nothing said or done that could ever be used against them at some point in the future. If they kept it as clean as they could, no one would be at fault if and when everything ended.

When they were reunited, under entirely different circumstances than before, they recognized each other immediately, but played strangers as they were introduced. And as soon as they were left alone, they agreed that they never would speak of their past. Act like it never happened, and it will all go away eventually. And it worked, on the surface. Deep down, she was always drawn to him. Some days were worse than others. Some days, she would look at him and want nothing more than to slide her hands across his skin. But she kept herself in check, despite her desires.

As far as she knew, he wouldn't be betraying anyone in this process, if they were to start again; Michael was now out of the picture—was it because he found out? Or maybe it was something else entirely—and if he was seeing someone else, she didn't know about it. Maybe it was better that she didn't know about it.

It made it easier for Karen to come to Will tonight.

She had had it; something about Stan tonight really got under her skin. It wasn't the usual; this time, Karen had wanted to speak to Stan, even called his name several times, and he didn't listen. Or he was ignoring her completely. And she realized that whatever it was that had drawn him to her all those years ago—what was keeping her from going back to Will, or going to anyone else; she didn't want to hurt him now that they were married—had obviously faded.

Which meant that she wouldn't feel bad if she happened to slip into the arms she trusted.

Karen had gone into one of the spare bedrooms, one that had a separate phone line that Stan never checked, and dialed Will's number. She got the answering machine, but she knew she would be safe; Grace had moved out of the apartment and was usually oblivious to the blinking red light and the voice shooting through the speakers. "Keep the door unlocked," she said and hung up before she could change her mind, tell him to forget everything she just said.

She wouldn't be breaking the rules they put down when they first met. They didn't have to talk about their past. They would simply be repeating history, and who said that that had to be a bad thing?

To the bedroom. Stan was sleeping soundly; she wondered if, at this point, he would even notice if she left for good. She went to his bedside and touched his arm, shook him gently. Wake up, Stan, she thought. Tell me that you love me and you don't want me to leave. Tell me that you're sorry and you can't wait to talk to me. Let me know that you still care. Nothing. He didn't budge, and Karen couldn't tell if he was truly in a deep sleep or if he was merely pretending slumber to get her to leave him alone. She wouldn't put it past him if it were the latter. She sighed and left the room, raced out of the home and hailed a taxi that would put her at Riverside Drive.

The door opened with ease; he obviously got her message. She found him in the hallway, willing her to come to him. No words, no fillers. Nothing that will weigh this night down. Her lips found his like they had only been apart for a few hours, his fingers tracing the circumference of her waist as he led her to his bedroom. Clothes on the floor. Bare skin against his sheets.

Making love against the moonlight. Something that was once so routine had been sorely missed. Karen didn't realize how much she wanted—no, needed—to feel like this again. She wanted to know how long this would last. She wanted to know if he would do this again. She knew she shouldn't ask, but something inside of her was begging to be informed.

When their breathing evened and became lighter, Will cradled her in the space between his arm and his chest. She looked over at his clock, screaming 2:39 AM, like it was scolding her. It's the early morning; you should be with your husband. You made the commitment. You should act like you did. She glared at it. I'll act like it, she thought, when he starts to.

Silence. It should be broken.

"I could stay here tonight," she whispered, the first thing she said to him. The attraction, the sight of him in the hallway, was too overwhelming for her to speak. "I don't think he'd notice."

"You know you can't do that."

Well. She could. But she shouldn't. And she knew it.

Karen sighed. Five years ago, he would have jumped at the chance to spend the night with her. He would have told her he loved her and actually meant it. He would have kissed her in the morning to ease her into reality. She would have believed, for a fleeting moment, that it could be like this every day. But, although they kept saying that it couldn't last forever, although he let Michael move back in and she accepted that dreaded proposal, she knew she was heartbroken. She had truly fallen, even though she didn't want to admit it. And she could tell that he did, too.

But a lot can change in five years.

Karen got up and picked her clothes up off the floor. Slipped into her skirt, her back towards the bed, towards Will. If she was going to leave, she couldn't face him. If she did, she knew she would want to stay here, and he was right; she really can't do that.

"Can I see you tomorrow night?" She shouldn't have asked that. That sounded desperate.

"I don't know. Let's take tomorrow as it comes."

With that, she slipped her shoes onto her feet and tried to straighten her hair as she walked out of the bedroom. She locked the door behind her and hailed a taxi outside.

Her head against the back seat of the cab, she felt the tears begin to well in her eyes, hot with disappointment. It wasn't his fault; they were only doing what they agreed to do. But it wasn't in her nature to deny something that was so obviously in front of her. It wasn't in their nature, the 1994 them. They were freer, they could say whatever the other needed to hear. But things were different now. Things had to change, and she hated it.

She went to him to feel alive.

But she never realized how quickly she would become numb once again.


	2. As I Lay Me Down

March 1994

Other people brought a picnic to Central Park. Other people spent quality time there with the ones they loved. Other people read a book or walked around and took in the beauty, nature in a land of cement and skyscrapers. Other people liked to feel the sun on their skin or were drawn to the park because it was an escape from their everyday lives, an escape from the city, despite the fact that it was still in Manhattan.

Karen lay down on the grass of Central Park on this unseasonably warm day, arms outstretched and eyes closed to shield her vision from the sun, waiting for someone to notice her.

But they never did.

Lately, she had been wondering why she ever thought it was a good idea to stay with Stan in the first place. Her last few relationships had been for love, there was no doubt about that. But at some point, he had begun to tune her out until it seemed as though he lost interest completely, and it made her take a step out of the situation and reevaluate why she chose him. Yes, she would walk into a gathering on his arm, be introduced as the girlfriend, but once the novelty had worn off, she was left to her own devices until he decided it was time to go. His friends, his colleagues, anyone associated with him, never fully gave Karen the time of day, making awkward small talk with her until someone more interesting came along. One day, she wanted to be like them, stop in the middle of an activity because someone else had taken her interest.

Which is why she came to the park. She figured that eventually, someone would have to notice her, someone would have to care enough to walk over to her. She went once a week when she knew Stan would be at work, and waited. Nothing ever came from it, but she never gave up hope. After all, it was better than staying at home, completely isolated from the world. At least here, there was civilization. At least here, there were people; she may not have much contact with them but she could see them, and at some point, they could notice her.

Another week, another chance to be seen. Another failure.

But then…

"Are you okay?" She felt the sun fade from her face, the coolness of this stranger's shadow hovering over her like an overdue blessing. Slowly, she opened her eyes and let him come into view. He was stunning, not just because of the physical, but because he actually took the chance to walk over to her. He was different from everyone else because of that. The stranger held out his hand for her to take. "Here, let me help you up." She grabbed it and felt his strength as he pulled her up from the ground. "Did you fall?"

She smiled. "No, no, I'm fine. Just taking in the sun." He was different than all the others, but she still couldn't tell him the real reason. He would think she was insane and write her off just as quickly as he held out his hand. "But…thank you for your concern, it was very sweet of you." God, he was handsome. His eyes so warm and inviting. His skin warm and comforting when you touch it. Oh, and his voice. Soothing even in its concern. Things she thought she found in other men, but realized that it was just deception. Things she failed to find in Stan, no matter how hard she tried. She felt a sense of intrigue flood her thoughts. "Most people wouldn't do that."

"Well, I'm not most people, I guess." You're right about that, she wanted to say. "I'm Will."

"Karen," she said. She didn't want this to end. Maybe he didn't either. Maybe he found her as intriguing as she found him. Maybe there was something she couldn't see in herself that he uncovered when she took his hand. Maybe she could try this, and he'll say yes. He was different than the others; he even said it himself. "Listen, I don't know if this is too forward, but…would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?"

Will's eyes locked with hers. Silence. Damn it, she screwed it up.

But then she felt his fingers weave with hers, a slight tug on her hand leading her towards him. Karen looked down at their interlocked hands, then back at Will. "I know a nice place around here. I'll treat."

She grinned and followed him, so easily trusting him to lead her, falling so quickly and so completely under his spell. And that's when she realized that she would probably stay under his spell for quite awhile.

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September 1999

It went so well for almost a week. Every night, the door would be unlocked. Every night, he would be waiting; sometimes in the hallway, sometimes on the couch, sometimes in the doorway to the bedroom, waiting for her skin. She wondered if he was aching for her as much as she had ached for him. As much as she always ached for him. He seemed like he did. He seemed like he was slowly but surely reverting back to his old ways, and that maybe they would be able to go back to the way they were. Although Karen never brought it up, she secretly hoped that that was the case. To know that she was fully loved by him once again. To know that his feelings for her might not have even gone away despite the fact that he had to.

But that damn message he left on her machine, surely wearing out the little tape inside of it, barely used until now. She spent most of the evening replaying those two words, and she tried to catch a hint of sorrow, or maybe regret, in his voice. But it was too quick. He hung up too fast. Karen took a deep breath to brace herself as she watched the tape rewind, then pushed play.

_Not tonight._

God, Will seemed so distant. Karen was desperate to know why. Maybe she was wrong; maybe there was someone he called his lover. Maybe he feels different about this one than he did about Michael when she first met him. Maybe that's why he's so unwilling to fall back into routine tonight. Or maybe he just didn't feel it for Karen anymore, and is merely going through the motions so she has a release.

Whatever the reason, she couldn't stand it. _Not tonight_. It wasn't fair.

Karen thought back to when they met. That stupid little stunt she loved to pull in Central Park. Well. Maybe it wasn't so stupid. It did lead her to Will. But what did that get her now? He was the only one to get sucked into it. He was the only one who paid attention to her as she lay on the grass, begging to be noticed.

He was the only one who cared.

She felt the mattress give to her weight as she lay down on the bed. Her arms were outstretched, her eyes closed. There was no sun to make her close them, but she knew of no other way to do this. Maybe if she stayed like this, Will would call. Maybe if she stayed like this, things could go back to the way they were five years ago. If she stayed like this, they could start over. She just needed him to call. She needed to hear the phone ring. She would know it was him on the other line, apologizing for the message—"I didn't really mean it. I'll keep the door unlocked, you can come over"—and she would run to his side. She would feel his touch and know that some things were right in the world.

Her eyes were closed for what seemed like an eternity.

And he didn't call.

But she couldn't give up. That wasn't in her nature. It's why she went to Central Park every week until she met Will. It's why she stayed with her arms outstretched now, with her eyes closed.

But Will wouldn't pick up the phone and dial her number.

And Karen fell asleep in that position.


	3. Leave The Door Unlocked

March 1994

She had to show up tonight. She seemed like the type of person who would show up tonight. But then again, how well can you really know a person you just met? No, don't think like that, Will. You both are coming from similar places. You both are looking for an escape, an excuse to feel alive. She'll walk through the door soon, and you'll laugh at yourself for doubting her. But you said that at nine tonight, and then again at ten. It's 11:30 now, and do you see her anywhere? You keep saying she'll show, but you're only setting yourself up for disappointment. What makes you so sure?

He just had a feeling that she would show up tonight.

They laid everything out on the table—damn it, maybe that's why she hadn't walked through the door yet, he told her too much. Over coffee, Karen told him about Stan, her uncertainty—"I haven't been completely honest with him lately, but at least I don't have to lie to you"—while he slipped a few details about his situation, that he was with someone, but they moved out two weeks ago, and he doesn't know where he stands now. Sure, he left out a few details, but from the sound of it, she already had enough to deal with. He didn't want to give her his own problems on top of that. But once she started to smile, once she let out a small laugh that lasted long enough for her voice to be affected by it, he started realizing it.

Maybe she was the thing he was so desperately looking for.

He couldn't remember what caused the string of arguments he and Michael had. But once they both started questioning the commitment of the other, they knew there was no going back from that. He watched Michael pack his bags and leave to move in with a friend until they figure out what to do about their relationship. And as one day rolled into the next, he was beginning to realize that it could be easy living without him. But left to his thoughts, Will could do nothing but pity himself for being in this situation, reevaluating and overanalyzing everything he could remember from his time spent with Michael. And he was tired of feeling sorry for himself.

It was something in her eyes that drew Will to her like no one else he's encountered before. A hint of sadness he would give anything to make go away. She opened her soul to him, and he fell for it. But he could tell she was holding back today; he could tell she was beginning to fall slightly for him, even if it was merely a crush that could be easily dismissed. Which is why he told her to come by the apartment tonight, the door would be unlocked for her to just walk in, only if she felt comfortable seeing him again. He wrote the address on her palm and watched her walk away.

And because of his initial curiosity, because he decided to lend a hand to her in the park, because he was so taken by her immediately, she was all he thought about.

The way her laugh was truly genuine. The way the fluorescent lighting of the café made her eyes shine in a way he's never seen before. The way you can hear the laughter in her voice even after she's stopped laughing. How she was trapped in a lifestyle she didn't belong in. How this Stan person didn't realize what he had—although how could Will be so sure? He only knew her for three hours—and that she deserved more. How he could be her way out.

No. She won't show. It's late. And she seemed like she was hesitant to have the address written on her skin. You didn't even consider that, did you Will? Be glad no one else knows of this. Better to keep it secret and act like you're not even sure of what you saw, like a dream that seemed so real, but when you wake up, you can't be sure it happened, no matter how badly you want to believe. He didn't blame her for staying home. He just didn't want their time to end so quickly.

But then…

A rustle at the door, the knob turning slightly. And then her voice.

"I couldn't get out of the house until now."

Will turned around to find Karen standing in the doorway. She looked small, almost childlike in her nervousness. He tried to warm her with his smile, but he didn't know if it was enough. "Do you still want me here?" she asked.

He walked over to her. She looked at him with trusting eyes. Slowly, his lips brushed against hers, and he wondered how long he could linger before she would notice. He pulled away and whispered.

"I don't want you to go."

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September 1999

It was starting to get too much like their relationship before. They promised each other they wouldn't fall into the same patterns, say the same things, caress their skin the way they used to. But when she called him last week, something inside him couldn't let him call her back and tell her to just stay home. Forcing him to think about a predicament he spent a years trying to push down in the darkest corners in his mind.

All this time, and he was still as intrigued by Karen as he ever was.

The last two nights he spent alone, certain that it would give him the opportunity to free her from his mind. But that, of course, only made her more prominent. He had to see her tonight. He picked up the phone and dialed her private line. "The door's unlocked tonight." Funny. Five years ago, he would have had more words. But time apart can leave a person speechless, not sure where to go.

The door had been unlocked for three hours. And she still hadn't come. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe she had had her fill. Maybe whatever problem she was having with Stan now was miraculously cured, and she's just going on like nothing ever happened. He went into his bedroom to get ready for sleep, leaving the door unlocked; a risky move in Manhattan, but at this point, he could care less. If someone wanted to make their way into the apartment, he wasn't going to stop them. He didn't want to be alone tonight.

Will slipped in between the sheets and closed his eyes. God, she was so vivid in his mind that as soon as he shut his eyes, he saw her immediately. This wasn't going to help. Maybe sleep wasn't the best thing right now. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, willing something, anything, to come and distract him from something he promised himself he wouldn't have again—it was nearly impossible to see her broken because of him the last time, and he wasn't about to do that to her again.

But out of the corner of his eye, he could swear that he saw someone at the doorway.

"You called?" He could picture her in his mind as often as he wanted, but she never looked more beautiful to him than she did standing right in front of him. He sat up, to face her. "Stan went to bed late, I couldn't get out of the house until now. Why did you call me? That's not how it works," she stated bluntly as she walked over to his bedside.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I just needed…"

"Shhh…" Karen put her finger to his lips before replacing it with her lips. He was surprised by how sweet they tasted; he couldn't believe he could forget so easily after two days without her kiss. She pulled away and faced him with her eyes, fierce in their intensity. "Don't say anything you'll regret later. Don't ruin it."

He realized two things while he watched her slip her skirt off and tossed it to the ground. He realized that telling her why he called, and inevitably breaking their new rules, would not happen now or, if he was going to be completely honest with himself, ever. And he realized that that conversation they just had was the most they've spoken to each other in over a week.

He couldn't decide which realization was the sadder one.


	4. If I Were To Care

April 1994

Careful not to make a sound; the bedroom is on the next floor, but you never know how much of an echo a sound can make when everyone and everything around you is completely silent. Turn the knob slowly; open the door by inches so it won't creak. Make sure that when you close it, it doesn't slam. Just in case, take off your shoes so your heels don't click on the hardwood floors. And thank whatever powers are at work that he's the only one home, that the kids are with their mother this weekend. It's going to be hard enough to deal with him if you're caught; how could you explain something of this magnitude to a child?

Karen made it from the door to the stairway to the spare bedroom she claimed as her private space without making a noise that could possibly wake Stan up. Safety never felt so sweet.

She was feeling lucky last night; when she would have gotten up to leave Will's apartment, she stayed in his bed and told him she wanted to spend the night. He didn't protest it, but they both knew they were playing with fire. And they didn't care. To feel his warmth as she drifted off to sleep. To feel him smile as he kissed the crown of her head and said goodnight. To hear his heartbeat, serving as a quiet lullaby, ringing soft in her ear as she rested her head against his chest. If she were to face Stan in the morning as she was climbing out of the hole she started digging with Will, the consequences would be so completely worth the interrogation.

The answering machine was flashing red at her. The bed she shares with Stan is at the other end of the hallway; she'd be safe if her finger just happened to slip on the play button. "I just watched you leave, but I thought I'd call to tell you I miss you. I hope you can come by tonight. I'll keep the door unlocked." She bit her lower lip to keep the smile on her face from growing wider as she made her way to the shower, but it was no use. It didn't matter where, when, or for how long, but whenever she heard Will's voice, she couldn't help but break out into a grin.

Last night really was fantastic. Actually, if she had to be honest, this past month had been fantastic. Ever since Karen met Will, she felt freer. She felt as if she were floating through life instead of being dragged through it on the arm of someone who could probably care less about her, and who she was beginning to care less and less about. Will held her at night, Will laughed at her jokes. He spoke to her as if she were an important person, was interested in holding actual conversations with her. He caressed her skin in such a gentle way. And when they make love, he's not merely going through the motions. He's there, in every sense of the word. She couldn't remember the last time Stan did any of those things. Maybe when they first got together. But if she couldn't remember, it must not have been often. It must not have been extraordinary.

In the beginning, Karen was always afraid that whatever she built with Will would come crashing down suddenly, and she would have nowhere to run for protection. She was nervous being in his apartment the first couple of weeks, because, although it wasn't very likely, that lover of his—that mysterious lover he was so reluctant to give details about—could walk through the door at any moment and catch them. And she was so positive that Will would go back to them, instead of staying with her. They had been together longer, earlier. It was a question of seniority, and Will's lover had been there first. It was the only way that this newfound relationship of hers could end, in her mind.

But the first week went by. And the second. And by the third week, she realized that her fear was completely silly, and she put it to rest.

Karen walked down the stairs and saw Stan in the living room, a copy of the _New York Times_ in hand. She began to make her way towards the kitchen when his voice stopped her.

"Where were you last night?"

Damn it.

Karen turned to face him. He wouldn't take his eyes off of the text in front of him. Typical. With the paper blocking her view, she wouldn't be able to read his face, to see if the lie she was about to spin for him was satisfactory, if he would believe it. "I went out for coffee and decided to take a little walk around the city. Ran into a friend of mine, and I guess we lost track of time. By the time I came back, you were already in bed and I didn't want to disturb you, so I just went into the spare bedroom to sleep."

Okay, that wasn't a complete lie. She did go out for coffee and take a walk around the city. But it was with Will. And she wasn't about to give him that little detail. She waited for his response; god, it seemed like an eternity of silence.

"Oh. Okay. You know, next time, you can just get into bed, I probably won't even notice."

If only he realized how true that was for any given time of the day. Karen walked into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. That was too close. She had always pictured the demise of her relationship with Will coming from his lover, not hers, if you can even call him that anymore. But the fact that it almost came crashing down scared her. And it made her face reality.

Funny how quickly the sweetness of safety can turn so bitter.

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September 1999

"Where were you?"

Those words linked together, coming out of his mouth, seemed so foreign that she had to stop for a moment in the doorway and take it in before putting together a proper response. Acting like he cared where she went. Acting like he even noticed her absence before she walked through the door. She was surprised he was still awake, it was so late at night. Karen looked over at Stan in the living room, his back turned towards her.

"Does it matter, Stanley?"

Will called her out. Will wanted her with him. And she couldn't say no. Despite the fact that he was the one to initiate this encounter, it all seemed routine. Until it was time for her to leave. He grabbed onto her hand as she climbed out of the bed and tugged on it slightly. Like a child trying any feeble way to keep from being alone. Oh, and the look on his face. Where there was once satisfaction and more love than she'd seen from Stan lately, there was now a hint—no, it was more than that—of sadness. _You could stay with me tonight, if you wanted_, he had said. _You've said it before, Stan wouldn't even notice._ Karen kissed the top of his hand before letting it go, watching it drop to the mattress like it never had a chance of landing safely. _Will, that's not the way it works_, she had told him. God, that seemed to be her mantra for their…could they even call it a relationship at this point?

The truth was that Karen would have given anything to spend the night. She would have gladly crawled back into his arms and fallen asleep to his breathing and his fingers caressing her hair. But they weren't supposed to get attached. That's what killed her the first time. And she knew she wouldn't be able to take it if she got attached this time, only to have everything fall apart once again. She just didn't know how to stay aloof.

She tried it the first time, and look where it got her.

Karen started walking up the stairs. "Pretend like you cared in the first place," she mumbled. She could feel Stan's eyes on her for a quick second before he turned his gaze away from her. She went to the spare bedroom and dialed the numbers she knew by heart and started counting the number of rings. One. He's going to pick up. Two. Three. She didn't blame him for not answering. Four. She heard his voice speaking a generic message before the beep.

"Will…" she started before she realized she had no idea what to say. Damn, speed it up, say something. Anything. It doesn't matter what.

"I'm sorry." And she hung up the phone.


	5. The Meaning Of Forever

April 1994

"You know this can't last forever."

Will thought she was asleep next to him, the sheets making a deep red cocoon around her body. She called him earlier in the day to tell him that Stan had gone away on business for the weekend, and they could carry on without worry, and could he please take her away before she goes insane in this house. Dinners in public. Trips downtown. Nights spent together without sneaking around. It was all more than he could ask for. Especially after the first time they tried to wake up in the morning next to each other. It was a week ago. Karen was frantic as she left, and for whatever reason, was turned off to the idea of spending another night in Will's apartment. And when she told him that Stan was away, he jumped at the chance to keep her to himself for the weekend.

"I know," he replied as she lay on her back and looked up at his eyes. "But don't worry. We were doing perfectly fine when he was here. Sure, I won't like having to share you with him again, but I can manage." He gave her a smile. "As long as I get to see you." Will leaned down to kiss her neck, lingered there for a moment.

"That's not what I meant." Her voice began to shake as she said that. Will looked back at her eyes and saw they had grown darker in a matter of seconds. "I meant that _we_ can't last forever."

Silence.

"Will, we need to be realistic. And I'm not saying that I don't want to be with you, because you know that's the furthest thing from the truth. But you and I both know that things could change at any moment. Your lover could walk through the doors and want to make things work, and I know that you would choose them over me. I'm not stupid. I wouldn't expect you to stay with me if that happened."

Silence. God, she knew it would kill the evening if she brought it up, but she had to do it sometime. It plagued her, filling her mind when thoughts of his kiss and his touch should be there. The truth was that when she thought about it before, it was merely a passing notion. But that was before Stan nearly caught her. That was before she had to lie to his face and hoped that he would believe it. That was before she felt like his eyes were on her all the time, like one wrong move, and he would start questioning her without stopping. Karen wasn't quite sure what she was looking for from Will. She only hoped that whatever he was about to give her wouldn't crush her.

"I'm not quite sure what you want me to do, Karen."

"Just be honest with me. That's all we have at this point."

"You're right. We may not have forever. We may not have next year, next month, next week. We may not even have tomorrow. But I'm willing to take that risk. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before the fall, whenever that may be. I won't lie to you, and I won't be anything but myself when I'm around you. I will give you all I can in whatever time we have together. I promise you that. It may not be much, but it's all I can give."

Karen ran her finger along his jaw, slid past the slight stubble on his face. "How do you do that?" she asked him as she smiled.

"How do I do what?"

"How are you able to tell me that we're certain to end, but you're still able to make me feel so much better about everything?"

Will smiled against the moonlight as he made his way down her body. "Because you trust me," he said and kissed the skin of Karen's bare stomach. She could feel him smiling above her navel and she giggled. It only made him smile wider. He would do anything, make himself out to be the biggest fool on the planet, if it made her laugh, if it took some of the pain away. He heard her sigh—not out of misery, but out of elation—and felt her hands embrace his jaw line as she led him back to her lips.

"You haven't given me a reason not to trust you," she whispered before brushing her lips against his. "And I know you never will."

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October 1999

"I had a great time tonight," he said against the cacophony of taxis racing by and voices carrying throughout the block. They spent the evening at a small bistro in Little Italy, far from uptown distractions and problems. He thought it was perfect and thoughtful, an intimate space with only a few people scattered here and there, sharing dinner by candlelight. He turned to Will, who was hailing a cab. "Will I see you again?"

Will would love nothing more at this moment than to take off running down Mulberry Street until he hit Houston, never breaking his pace until Lafayette Street came into view. He could hide out in Grace's office—he had the key—until he was sure he wasn't followed, then find a cab to take him to Riverside Drive.

Grace. She was the one to set this whole thing up with…god, what was his name? Will couldn't remember and it was too late to ask. She thought that Will wasn't acting like himself, and in Grace's mind, that meant it was because he was lonely, so the quick fix was obviously setting him up with one of her clients. What would get rid of him? What if Will said it couldn't last forever? No. That would only get him to leave for a little while; he'll just come back five years later. "Um…why don't I check my schedule and give you a call once I see when I'm free?" he finally said. The answer seemed to satisfy What's-His-Name, and Will got into a taxi and drove off for Riverside Drive.

When he got to the apartment, she was sitting on the couch in the living room. "Karen, what are you doing here?"

She looked over at him. "It just seemed better to sit around here than to sit around at home, where I'm attacked by things that remind me of him. Where were you tonight?"

Will shook his head. "Nowhere special." Damn it. The first lie he ever told. Well. Maybe it wasn't considered a lie. To him, it was nowhere special. He didn't care for the date. He didn't care for the conversation. He assumed the food was decent, as he ate all of it, but he honestly couldn't remember. He was too busy with his thoughts of her to even notice. So no. Maybe it wasn't a lie at all.

"You have no idea how badly I needed to see you tonight." As soon as he said that, he wished he could take it back. That wasn't how they were supposed to function. It wasn't how it was supposed to go. Nowhere in their twisted little routine did any personal feelings like that come into play. It just wasn't how it was done. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to make things better. "I didn't mean it. I mean, I meant it, but…I didn't mean to ruin it."

Karen let a half-smile creep onto her face. "You haven't," she said softly.

He made a dash for her, scooped her up into his arms. Her giggle automatically filled the entire apartment as he carried her to the bedroom. When she landed on the mattress, a jump in her laugh made him grin into her skin. "How do you do that?" she asked. "How can you just whisk me away and make me forget everything?"

"It's a gift," Will joked as he watched her eyes dance, taking in his presence. And he realized that for a moment, they slipped. For a moment, they reverted back to the way they were. For a moment, he was certain it was a fleeting thing, and would be gone as quickly as he noticed it.

But it wasn't.

And he wondered if Karen noticed.

Either way, he loved it.

And he didn't want it to end.


	6. Third Wheel

July 1994

Although she had gotten increasingly irritated with Stanley lately, she had to admit that she did love one thing about him; she loved the fact that he often went away on business, leaving her to her own devices. She usually packed the night before. She would watch him walk out the door, like she did today, and when he closed it behind him, Karen would wait five minutes before grabbing her bag and racing out the door to hail a cab to Riverside Drive. This time, he would be gone for two weeks. Which meant that she would not be home—or whatever you wanted to call it; lately it didn't seem much like home to her—in those two weeks.

Which meant that she would be in Will's arms in those two weeks.

Karen opened the unlocked door, but found that he wasn't in the living room. "Will?" she called out. No answer. She went to the balcony, only to be greeted by a pair of plants that, if they weren't dead, were very close to the end. Okay. Maybe he just stepped out to get something. She could wait. They had two weeks; if she didn't see him the exact moment she walked through the door, it wasn't the end of the world. But it didn't hurt to see him right away. She walked back into the living room, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor the only thing keeping her company. "Will, are you here?" she called again. Still nothing. Karen started to move to the couch to rest before he came back inside.

Just then she felt arms wrapping around her waist, the force of another person twirling her around, and a "Hello!" resonating against the walls. She let out a cry of surprise that turned into a fit of laughter as she realized who was taking her for a spin. Once they slowed to a stop, she asked "Where did you come from?" in between her giggles. She spun around to face him and met his lips before he answered.

"The bedroom. I wanted to surprise you. I'm so glad you're here."

"I can't wait to spend two weeks with you. I couldn't stand being in that house for a moment longer. Are you sure you want me here for this long?"

"Karen, I wouldn't have it any other way. Let me take your bag to the bedroom. Don't keep me waiting," he said with a growing grin. He picked up her suitcase and went off into the room. Karen started to follow when she heard a soft knock on the door and a faint "Will?" coming from the other end. She opened up the door to find a man on the other side.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Karen studied him. He seemed like a man with the weight of a million regrets on his shoulders, and she couldn't help but feel for him. After all, before she met Will, she was in his position. And she could be sure that when things end with Will, she would be back to holding that weight against her.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked sharply. Before Karen could even get out an "Excuse me?" he tried to take it back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I don't want to bother you; I know it's getting pretty late. But is Will here?"

"Well, he is, but he's in bed at the moment." She couldn't help but let a small smile grow on her face. As much as she felt sorry for this man, whoever he was, the thought of being with Will tonight made her the happiest woman on earth. "I can tell him you came by to see him, if you want." She paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure who you are."

"Oh, right. My name's Michael. I am…well, I guess was…his boyfriend. Don't really know where I stand with him at the moment, although I can guess that I'm not very high on his list right now. We…well, I guess I shouldn't go into all the details and keep you. Just tell him I stopped by." He walked over to the elevator and walked in. As soon as the doors closed, Karen felt her legs go weak, and she was so grateful she was holding onto the doorframe, or else she would have collapsed onto the floor for sure. In all of her imaginings of how that moment would go, it wasn't anything like what actually happened. It would have been a dramatic movie scene, Michael walking in on them making love, or engaged in a kiss. He would have overheard them saying "I love you" to each other and feel the need to step in and intervene. He wouldn't have looked so broken.

It also threw her that Will's lover was a man. She was perfectly fine with it—before her first husband, she had an affair with another woman, and, in many ways, it was the only time she was ever truly in love with someone. And when this woman left her, she tried to find it everywhere, settling too many times for less than what she was looking for. She was starting to think that she had found it in Will. But now Michael was real to her. And she didn't know what to do about it.

"Karen, where are you? Come to bed." She willed herself to walk to the bedroom, and found Will laying on the mattress with a smile on his face. "What took you so long?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later," she replied, and mustered up the best smile she could before crawling into bed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October 1999

"Chris really liked you the other night. He wants to see you again."

Karen was jerked back into reality by Grace's statement. The past three nights with Will had been swimming in her mind. It was as if they had reverted back to their old ways—that swooning, uncontrollable love they used to share so beautifully in the past—and, if she had to be honest, she loved it. She didn't feel like Karen Walker anymore. She felt like the woman she was before she had ever taken that man's last name. They didn't speak about their past, but they didn't have to; they were making up for the way they left things with these last three days. And when Will came by the office today to have lunch with Grace, she had to keep herself from spilling even the slightest detail of what they were doing behind closed doors. Which led her to think about her time with Will. But for some reason, Grace's comment pulled her from her daydream.

"I don't know, Grace," Will replied. Well, at least he knew what that guy's name was now. He was telling himself that the reason he didn't call Chris was because at the time, he was nameless, but he wasn't kidding himself. Will didn't think he could stand to see him again, especially with the way things were going with Karen lately. Falling back into their routine. Maybe things could be different this time. Maybe they could figure out how to hold onto this for longer. Forever. "Maybe another date." He only said that to get Grace off his back.

Maybe another date? Karen thought as she witnessed this scene from her desk. Who the hell was this guy, this Chris? Why didn't Will tell her? Where did he take him? Was it somewhere he took her all those years ago? Karen remembered every restaurant and every café she had been to with Will, and she knew that he remembered it all as well. Suddenly, she felt so betrayed. Things had been going so well, she had finally been getting the feeling that he could fall again, and just like that, it all comes crashing down because of some other man.

Funny. Same thing happened five years ago. Only this time, she didn't know if she could stay around for as long as she did last time.

Karen ran out of the office and stopped on the sidewalk outside the building. Sure enough, Will was right behind her. "Are you okay?" he asked against midday traffic. She didn't respond. "Karen, look at me," he said. She turned around and faced him. "I'll explain all of that later, when we can be alone. Will you still come by?"

God, the light in her eyes dimmed so quickly. It was as if she had forgotten the last three days, the last month entirely. "Not tonight," she shot back, cold as ice. And as he watched her walk back into the building, it wasn't what she said, or even how she said it, that got to him.

It was the fact that tonight she would rather spend a night in the cold embrace of the Walker mansion than in his arms.


	7. Smoke In Your Eyes

July 1994

For a moment, she wanted the smoke to suffocate her. With the cigarette to her lips, she truly wondered how long she could hold the smoke in her lungs before she would have no other option but to exhale. She knew Will hated when she smoked, and she had to move to the balcony whenever she did. It was funny; she started when she and Stan were starting to get serious—it was an escape for her, something to calm her and take her mind off of the situation—but she almost stopped when she started spending time with Will, save for the one or two cigarettes she slipped in to get the flavor. But with this revelation, she couldn't stop.

It had been three days since she met Michael. Three days since he became a reality. Three days since her surroundings began to slowly close in on her. Karen still hadn't told Will about it. Sure, she said she would tell him, but after they made love that night, he seemed to forget that she was ever held up by something. She knew she had to say something. He had been nothing but honest with her the entire time they had been together; the least she could do was return that. But she was so scared about the consequences.

He could go back to Michael. Just like that, she could be out of the picture.

God, she was being so selfish. It wasn't her life to play around with. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help but revert to the playground tactics of a small child. Michael was the one to give him up. Karen was the one to find him. She was the one to realize what she had. She was the one to make Will forget about whatever heartache he caused. Finder's keepers.

It was a two step process, she thought every time he caressed her body. Touch me, fall. And she had fallen faster than she thought was humanly possible.

She felt his fingers weave with hers on the rail of the balcony. "I've been looking for you," Will said in that soft voice that, on any other given day, would make her melt. But tonight she was too occupied with the potential destruction of their relationship. Tonight she was afraid that he would ask her to leave, to cut their time together short to find Michael to tell him that he's always had a home here; just because he left doesn't mean he can't come back.

This can't last forever, she thought, a reminder for herself. She just didn't realize that she had said it out loud.

"What? Karen, what are you talking about?"

Karen stomped out her cigarette on the ground before turning to face him. Oh, his eyes, his smile. So full of hope, so full of comfort. You should realize who you're giving it to, Will, before you're so willing to let it go. She wanted to tell him, she really did. She wanted to be honest. But when he took her in his arms and let her fingers comb through his hair, everything seemed to melt away. God, how was he able to do that? It was something she only found in him. Stan never had it, and she couldn't remember her past husbands ever having it, either.

"Nothing. Nothing, honey. I guess I was just in my own little world for a second."

He smiled and pressed his lips against hers. "Come take a walk with me by the river. It's a nice night out tonight. Let's get out of here." She couldn't help but giggle; all he had wanted to do since Stan went away was go out, show the world that yes, happiness does exist. Karen nodded and was whisked from the balcony to the living room and out the apartment door.

He seemed to think nothing of Michael.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that she didn't tell him about their meeting. She didn't want to be the one to kill his happiness, his joy. And she knew if she just mentioned his name—or the fact that she actually knew his name, since he never really gave her any details about his significant other—it would make that beautiful smile disappear. That was the last thing she wanted.

No. Tonight wasn't the right time for it. Tonight she would take his hand and stare out into the river, watch the moon reflect on the water. Tonight he would be only hers, and Michael would not exist. Tonight they would pass by other New Yorkers like it was nothing, they would be seen and they wouldn't care. Tonight they could be themselves.

She would tell him about her encounter some other time.

But even with that, she wasn't sure.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October 1999

She held the smoke in her lungs as long as she could before she had to let it out. She looked at the cigarette between her fingers, the tip glowing orange as it burned. She wondered if it would burn her fingers if she let it turn to ash all the way through. Such an inane little thought, but at this point, it was all she had. There was a slight chill in the air that gave her goosebumps, but she didn't mind it. Karen didn't want to go back inside just yet, so she wrapped Will's comforter tighter around her bare skin and settled in her place on the balcony.

She only came by tonight because he wouldn't stop calling.

Will wanted to apologize, she could tell. But he wasn't the one to blame in her eyes. They never promised to be exclusive, mainly because Karen couldn't hold true to it anyway; she had Stan, and even though she liked to pretend that he didn't exist when she was with Will, they couldn't escape that he was in the picture. But it was like it was 1994 all over again; once Will's significant other became real to her, she was never the same. Karen didn't want to come over tonight—she hadn't come over for the past two nights, since she learned about Chris—but Will's voice was beginning to fill up the answering machine, and she knew he wouldn't give up. So she walked through the door, and they made love in silence. When they finished, they lay in bed, and once she knew Will was asleep, she grabbed the comforter from the bed and made her way to the balcony.

And she couldn't help wondering why she was here.

"There you are." She turned her head to find Will behind her. "I've been looking for you." His hands gracing her shoulders where the blanket can't reach. His warmth wrapping around the areas of her skin that were beginning to chill with the October air. "I think we need to talk. I didn't want to see that guy. Grace set me up with him for whatever reason, but the entire time I was with him, all I could think of was coming home and taking you in my arms. You have to believe me, I…"

"Stop. Will, please just stop." She knew coming here tonight was a mistake. She knew that if she succumbed to his plea, he would misconstrue that as a willingness to forget about the other day. But that wasn't the way Karen functioned. He's known her for five years. He should know that by now. "Don't say you're sorry, and don't say you didn't want to see him. You wouldn't have gone if you didn't want to see him."

"Karen…"

"Just forget it. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't want to get into it. Because we both know what happens when we do." She pushed past him and went back inside as he followed close behind. "We have a good thing going. Don't say anything to ruin it." She rushed to the bedroom and closed the door behind her, started picking her clothes up off the floor to change. Tears welling in her eyes. Five years passed by, and it was still that same two step process.

Touch me, she thought. Fall.


	8. Confessions

July 1994

"I saw Michael the other day." She looked at him from across the table. A homemade candlelit dinner, courtesy of Will, was not exactly the scene she had imagined when she pictured this moment. But the days kept going on, and she still let him go on thinking that Michael could care less about what he was doing right now. He looked as if he didn't believe her; maybe the initial shock of using his first name—instead of "your lover," what she normally used, since Will never told her his name—was what got to him. But she waited until he responded.

"What do you mean, you saw him?"

"He came by the apartment the first night I was here. That's why I didn't come to bed right away. I heard a knock on the door and someone calling your name. And let me tell you, he was pretty shocked to see me answer your door. He told me who he was and left. Believe me, Will, I was going to tell you. I tried to tell you. But every time I started to form the words, I couldn't get them out. So I waited. I thought that if I had some time to plan out how I was going to tell you, it would be easier for me to do it. But as more time went by, it became clearer to me that I couldn't say it. Because I know what it means."

"What do you think it means, Karen?" God, that look in his eyes. She couldn't tell if it was a look of confusion or anger and regret.

"He wants you back. True, he didn't say it outright, but he wouldn't have come here for any other reason. And we keep saying this can't last forever. I know where I stand, I haven't been around as long as he was. And he doesn't have any ties. I have Stan, and I don't know if and when I'll leave him."

Will stood up. Damn it, he was mad. Or he wanted to run to Michael, wherever he may be tonight. God, she was a fool. She just laid out reasons why he shouldn't pick her. Karen didn't want to lose him, but by the way she went about doing this, you couldn't tell. Wait. What was he doing? He moved closer to her, knelt down to her level and took her hand in his.

"Do you want to know something?" he asked. "I haven't thought of Michael since the moment I met you."

"Until now," Karen interrupted.

"And that's only because you brought him up. This time away from him has been a blessing. It opened my eyes to all that I could have. You have shown me more love in four months than I think I've seen from him in the past year. So if I see him anytime, great. We'll catch up. And I plan on telling him everything I've just told you."

She looked into his eyes, full of sincerity, before turning away in embarrassment. For a moment, she couldn't believe it. For a moment, she thought she didn't hear him correctly. After months of fearing the day that familiarity and routine is chosen over whatever it is she had to offer—she could never figure out what it was about her that interested him so much—she had just been told that her fears were not justified.

Karen felt Will's palm gracing her cheek, his thumb moving along her skin. "Look at me," he said softly. Well. She could never deprive him of what he wanted. Her eyes locked with his as a smile grew on his face. "I want you. I need you. And I don't see that ever changing. So, I'm sorry to disappoint you…but you're pretty much stuck with me."

There it was. Her giggle, quickly turning into a whole-hearted laugh. He loved the way it lit up her eyes, made her entire presence glow with a joy he thought she so rarely got with Stan. "Well," she said, her laughter still present in her voice, "I guess I'll be able to live with that."

It was so contagious, he couldn't help it; Will started to laugh along with her. "I was hoping you would say that." He felt her arms wrapping around his neck, her body against his. If he was only allowed this space, and the people and things in it, he would be perfectly happy; to be able to be with her without any outside interruption—from Michael, from Stan; hell, at this point, from anyone—seemed to him to be paradise. He had to be honest; she was all he needed.

"I love you." Damn. He hadn't meant to say it. He had thought it all the time—god, it filled the few spaces Karen's image didn't occupy—but he didn't want to cross that line just yet. He was never sure if he would get it back, if everything he had been living the past four months was actually just a long and perfect dream.

She pulled away and looked him in the eye, smiled a little bit.

"I love you too, Will."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October 1999

"I can't take this much longer." She didn't look at him, just stared at the ceiling. Karen had been dying to talk about it all—about where they stood with each other five years ago, about what happened in the short time they were together back then, about where they stood with each other now. But with the way things were left the other night, and with the fact that she kept coming back despite her better judgment, she knew she probably missed the window for that.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she heard him mumble from the other side of the bed.

She shook her head. "It wouldn't be worth it."

"Karen, you came to me last month because you wanted to feel something. You told me that before. But if you keep insisting on putting up a stone cold guard whenever you're around me, we'll never get anywhere. Just tell me how you feel about…anything. About what we're doing, what we used to do. Tell me how you feel right now. Let me know what you're thinking. Because if we're going to keep it up like this for much longer, we're both going to be miserable. Just tell me what you're thinking."

Such a loaded command. But then again, she was never able to deprive him of what he wanted. She could go a few days without doing so, but eventually it came back to him. It always came back to him.

Better get on with it…

"I'm thinking that for a while, you reminded me of the guy you were to me five years ago. You just don't get it, do you? You don't realize what you do to me. You don't realize what happens to me when you touch me, when you smile at me, when you kiss me. When you ask after me. This isn't a game to me, Will. It never was. I came to you for a reason. Don't you think that if I was that miserable, I would have tried looking everywhere for an escape? But you were there for me the first time, so I came back to you. I always come back to you, and I wish I could stop it, but there's no way I can. I mean, come on, Will. Do you think I lied to you back then? Nothing's changed. I love you…"

Damn it. That didn't just come out of her mouth, did it? She waited a few seconds for a response. Nothing. Karen uncovered her bare skin and jumped out of the bed, racing to the bathroom and locking the door behind her. Her back to the door, she slid down to the floor, waiting to hear footsteps, something to let her know that he was following behind her.

Nothing. Just her own breath and her own skin, letting her know that she screwed up.

Back in the bedroom, Will was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't know if she wanted him to follow; she had been so unpredictable the past few days. But that's part of the reason he was so intrigued.

Back in the bedroom, he opened his mouth and took a breath.

"I love you too, Karen."


	9. Over Him, Because Of Him

September 1994

He let his finger run across her forehead, down to her temple. Move down her cheek, linger around her jaw line. God, her neck is so smooth. What he wouldn't give to steal a quick kiss, but to be honest, he didn't want to wake her and he was surprised she hadn't woken already because of his touch. She had let out a small moan and he wondered if she felt him, or if it was just a reaction to a dream. Maybe if he just pressed his lips—not even press, just grace them—against her cheek she wouldn't notice. But when he made contact with her skin, he was saddened.

The tears had dried, but Will swore he could still taste them as he kissed her.

Karen came to him tonight crying. Stan wasn't satisfied with the way she carried herself around his colleagues and—she knew he was either lying or using the term very loosely—friends. He felt that she didn't make an effort, didn't seem interested in the people who were most important to him, and could she at least try to seem intrigued by their conversation? That's when she went off, nearly screaming herself hoarse to get him to see that she tries, but she's always thrown to the wayside, and after a while she just stopped trying, because she knew how it would end. Trying to get him to see that she's been neglected for so long, and it didn't used to be like this, Stan, but it sure as hell is routine now, for whatever reason. And when she couldn't take him anymore, she fled for security and comfort. She fled to Will.

He had never seen her like that before. He had never seen her crying over him. No, that wasn't the right term for it. Crying because of him. And while he waited for her breathing to even out and for her to smile again, he silently made a promise that he would never be the cause for her tears.

She looked so peaceful now; he didn't have the heart to wake her. She had to have been so tired from the night. He would give anything to know what it was about Stanley Walker that makes her go back to him after their nights together. What it was that made her cling to this life she so obviously wanted no part of. But maybe she was beginning to wonder as well. When she had finally calmed, she took a breath and tried to speak. Her voice was still shaky and weak from her tears, but strong in conviction. _What if I just stayed here? I could start over again, couldn't I? We could be happy. I don't think I can live there anymore._ Will didn't know whether to take her seriously or chalk it up to exhaustion and confusion from the night. So he didn't do anything but smile and watch her as she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

But god, he wished he would have told her yes. Yes, she could start over again. Yes, they would be happy. And they wouldn't have to worry anymore. Maybe once she woke up, he could say it.

Will brushed a small strand of hair behind her ear and she began to move. Damn, he woke her up. Karen opened her eyes slowly and smiled at the sight of him. "Hi," she said, her voice heavy with sleep.

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "I didn't want to wake you."

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry I haven't been the best company tonight."

"Don't apologize. I just want you to be happy." Even under the weight of her problems, she was gorgeous and smiling. He always wondered how she could do that. "Hey, do you remember what you were talking about before you fell asleep?" She gave a small nod against her pillow. "I want you to start over again with me."

Her smile grew wider as she brushed her fingers through his hair. "I would love to start over again with you." Her lips, they didn't taste of tears and sadness like her cheek did. They were sweet and overjoyed. But before he could linger there just a second longer, the phone began to ring. "Who is that?" she asked.

"Don't worry about it, I'll answer it. Try to get some sleep." He reluctantly got out of bed and went into the kitchen, picked up the phone. "Hello?" he said. He tried, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the entrance to the hallway, the path to her. Starting over. It was a beautiful thing. He realized that whoever was on the other line was speaking and he hadn't picked up a word of it. Too distracted with his own thoughts. But they were the most beautiful distraction he could have asked for. "I'm sorry," he said into the phone. "Who is this?"

"Will, you know who this is."

Yes. He knew. But he didn't want to.

"Did you even hear what I said, Will? I want to meet you somewhere. It doesn't have to be tomorrow, but in the next couple of days? I'd like to talk to you. It's been too long."

Will sighed. "Yeah, I guess. You pick the place, Michael. I'll meet you there."

Starting over. So close. He just needed to burn a couple bridges beforehand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October 1999

She hadn't come out of the bathroom. It's been two and a half hours, and she still hasn't come out of the bathroom. What the hell was she doing in there? Will wondered if he shouldn't just go in there and tell her that yes, he feels the same way and she shouldn't be embarrassed, but he knew her. They were supposed to keep this as emotionless as possible, and in her mind, she failed miserably by telling him she loved him. He knew it would only make things worse if he came in there trying to make it okay.

But he was worried about her. He didn't want her to suffer alone.

Would it really be so bad? To go back to the way things were? Only this time, things would be different. Michael was completely out of the picture, had been for two years. And this Chris guy was as good as gone; Will wouldn't be calling him anytime soon. Karen's marriage to Stan was all but over; not that she ever admitted this, but it didn't take a genius to realize it. Despite her attempts to keep it hidden, it was completely obvious to everyone around her.

He got out of bed and moved to the bathroom. The door was hard to open, but he eventually got it to reveal Karen lying on the floor, asleep on the rug in front of the bathtub. God, she was beautiful, even in distress. He wondered how deep of a sleep she was really in. If she would notice if he touched her, if his skin was against hers. She couldn't have been comfortable down there. All he wanted was to help her.

Well. That and for her to finally let down her guard.

Carefully, slowly, Will scooped her up in his arms, cradled her. He froze for a moment to see if she was waking up. Nothing. Completely oblivious to the world around her. Sometimes that was a good thing, and for a moment he even considered envying her. Taking small steps, he left the bathroom, left the door open—he wasn't about to maneuver to close the door while he had Karen in his arms. He cautiously padded down the hallway and into the bedroom before laying her down on the mattress and pulling the covers over her body.

As he got in bed, he watched as she settled into the pillow. He let his finger run across her forehead, down to her temple. Move down her cheek, linger around her jaw line. God, her neck is so smooth. What he wouldn't give to steal a quick kiss, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to wake her. If she found herself back in his bed, she would know that he walked in on her, that he tried to save her. And he wasn't sure if she truly wanted that. Maybe if he just pressed his lips—not even press, grace—to her cheek, she wouldn't notice. But when his lips made contact with her skin, he could swear he tasted her tears.

She was crying over him. Because of him.

And he realized that he broke his promise. Five years was a pretty good run.

But not good enough.


	10. Trespassing

September 1994

_Marry me._

Out of nowhere. Casual. As if it weren't such a loaded statement—statement, not even a question. Wasn't it supposed to be a question? Wasn't it supposed to be well thought out, perfectly planned? Or did that only happen in cheap fiction? Some tired stereotype that no one can really handle anymore? _Marry me_, like he was telling her that they were out of milk. _Marry me_, like it was expected of her to comply to this, just like everything else in this life she wanted out of.

Okay, it might not have been out of nowhere. To be honest, he could have said any number of things and would have been unable to get her attention. Maybe he was introducing this proposition in the time she was flipping through the pages of her magazine, trying anything to get the sound of his voice out of her ear. But those two words had rung in ear like a gunshot. You couldn't do anything to keep from hearing it. Oh god. Maybe if she didn't respond, he would let it go.

_Karen._ Or not. _Marry me._

She had stared at him for what seemed like hours, concocting some sort of response that seemed appropriate. The best she could come up with: _Let me think about it._ Not what he was looking for. She hadn't cared. You can't catch her off guard like that and expect things to go your way, not when it's something like this. Karen had gotten up from her seat after that, and left without explanation.

In the cab, she wondered what Will would say when she told him. If he would laugh at him—was it okay to laugh? It did seem pretty ridiculous; there was no way that Stan had such a life-altering epiphany in the time that she was gone—in the time that she and Will were in between the sheets planning their scheme to start over—that made him see the error of his ways and therefore wanted to make things right. It seemed a little too precious for her. But those two words are not to be thrown around; they are not to be taken lightly. He had to have been serious.

Maybe Will would steal her away before she had a chance to break Stan's heart in person.

She dashed into the building on Riverside Drive. _Let me think about it_. God, was he that naïve? She had thought about it long before he even asked—sorry, stated. She had no intent of marrying him, as long as she was with Will. And if she ever had any desire to walk down the aisle with Stan one day, she couldn't remember why. It wasn't as if she so desperately wanted to be a part of what he was willing to offer her. She would be foolish to try to fit back into that life, when Will had done nothing but nurture her, give her all that she deserved. What more could she ask for? Karen had seen all that she could have; she wasn't about to go back now. She reached the ninth floor, walked across the hall to Will's apartment. Wait. What the hell?

The door was locked.

Karen pulled on the knob. This never happened before; Will always kept the door unlocked for her, even when he was out of the building. She didn't understand. She put her fist to the door, knocked a few times. "Will?" she called out. "Why is the door unlocked? Are you okay?" No answer. She knocked again. "Will, come on, honey, it's me. I need to tell you something. Will?"

The door opened and she stood there like stone, unable to move. "Can I help you?"

"Oh my god," she mumbled. For a quick moment, she felt as though she were trespassing. Until she remembered that six months ago, he decided to leave this place, thereby leaving it up for grabs. She had done nothing wrong; of this she was sure. "What the hell are you doing here?" How quickly she could turn from a small childlike girl to an adamant woman.

Why hadn't she tried this out more often with Stan?

"Excuse me?" Michael was enjoying this; she could tell. How the tables turned in a matter of months. She remembered when she was on the other side of the door, trying not to sound too offended by his harsh attitude towards her, when they never met before then.

"I'm sorry, I just…I wasn't expecting you to be here. Is Will around?"

"You know what? You just missed him. He went out to grab some coffee. I can tell him that you stopped by, if you want. Maybe he can call you."

Damn him. Who the hell did he think he was? Michael didn't spend the last six months with him. Michael didn't fit in to their plans. She's invested too much into this; Will wouldn't choose him over her. God, what was she thinking? Of course Will would choose him. He was the boyfriend. And they said this couldn't last forever.

"Actually, could I wait until he comes back? I just want to tell him something and then I'll leave the two of you alone."

"Yeah, I guess. Have a seat on the couch." Said like it was his. It was his. She had merely wrongfully claimed it for herself. She had merely wrongfully claimed a life with Will for herself.

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October 1999

Rosario let him in when she answered the door, and he couldn't figure out why. He felt like he was trespassing here; he was not allowed past this door. It was a risk to even be here; he just needed to see Karen, to talk to her, he was beyond reasoning. He shouldn't be here. But she let him in. And before Will could say anything to her, she was gone, fled off to some corner of the manse. Left to his own devices. He walked around the empty first floor, knowing that it was late. She was probably asleep. She was probably next to him. He didn't want to think about it.

But it was reality.

Up the stairs, Will came across the master bedroom. The door was open halfway, as if the ones on the other side were a bit wary of inviting people in to take a look. He couldn't resist. In the blue darkness of the room, he could still make out the bed, someone in it. Wait. Where was Karen? He could only make out Stan. But look, down the hall. The light coming out from that doorway. He was almost mesmerized by it, made his way towards it.

She was sitting on a mattress, hands in her lap, eyes on her hands. If only he knew why she kept running. If only he could stop her mind from spinning so it can land on happiness. He did it five years ago. Maybe he was a little rusty. "Hey," he whispered. Karen whipped her head around and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Her whisper was strong, almost angry. "He's down the hall, he could see you."

"I just needed to see why you won't give yourself completely. I needed to see what was so special about this place that you had to keep coming back."

Karen turned her gaze back to her hands. "I don't have anything else."

Maybe it was the back and forth that made her say it. Maybe she was playing with him this whole time. Or maybe she thought she did irreversible damage that would somehow make him able to throw her away at any moment. But he wanted to make the truth known. He walked over to her, knelt down to her level and lifted her chin so he could see her eyes.

"You've got me," he said simply.


	11. Bad Decisions

September 1994

This day—and this night—was filled with bad decisions. Starting with her phone call. Telling her he couldn't see her tonight, that he had something to take care of. Not telling her exactly what it was. She didn't question it, and he knew she wouldn't. Maybe that's why it made it harder to do it. Will almost wanted to be called out, to be demanded to spill everything, so Karen could convince him not to go through with it, and spend the night wrapped in her. But with disappointment and sadness in her voice, she said she understood and hung up the phone.

Continuing with the decision to actually go to this damn restaurant. He could have stayed home, called up Karen and told her to rush over here so they wouldn't have to be alone tonight. Because even though Will was meeting his…he didn't even know what to call him anymore, he would still be alone tonight. But there he was, sitting across from Michael, trying to make him see that they don't have a future anymore.

Following with the decision to bring him back to the apartment. God, he was so stupid, thinking that it would be better to officially break the news to Michael—he still wasn't getting the hint—someplace where they could be alone, instead of doing it in public where everyone can see what's going on. Privacy is best. Ending with the decision to offer to grab some coffee for the both of them while Michael stay there. Figuring it would be some sort of nice gesture before the letdown.

If he hadn't have made those decisions, it wouldn't be over.

Will opened the door to find Michael in the chair across the room staring at Karen on the couch, her hands in her lap and her head bent down. God, he just wanted to see her eyes. He knew how this looked to her, that he chose Michael over her. He knew what she was thinking. He tried to speak to her. "Karen…"

"Don't." He never realized how one word could be so chilling, how you could feel it pierce your chest, run up and down your spine. Karen stood up, walked toward the door. Will wouldn't let her through. She looked in his eyes; the light she once possessed in them had gone out entirely, not to be brightened again. "This can't last forever," she mumbled to him. "I figured it would happen." And with that she moved him out of her way and went for the stairs; she couldn't wait for the elevator.

And she was gone.

Later, Will would break. Later, Will would cave and ask Michael to move back in because he didn't want to be alone. But now, he went into his bedroom and shut the door, leaving Michael to do what he pleased. The pillow still smelled of her. He lay there with the pillow in his arms until he fell asleep.

Karen went back home—it sounded to weird to call this place home again, but she had nowhere else to go now—and found Stan in the bedroom, reading the paper in bed. "Stan." She climbed into bed and pulled the newspaper from his grip, doing her best to grab his attention. "Hi. Can we talk?"

"Yeah, of course. What's on your mind?"

She stopped for a second. Couldn't remember the last time he asked her that.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier. The way I acted. What I said. I shouldn't have let you hanging like that. I don't have to think about it."

"Karen, what are you saying?"

"Yes. I'll marry you."

Karen watched the smile grow on his face, felt him kiss her cheek. "I'm going to make sure you get everything you deserve. I'm going to make sure that you're happy with me." He took her in his arms. It didn't have the same feel as the pair of arms she was used to. But she couldn't go back; he didn't choose her. She had to make do with what she had in front of her. She wasn't going to find anyone who could make her feel the way Will did, who she was completely crazy about. Might as well stay with someone who at least loves her, or says he does.

In the spare room, the phone rang, waiting for Karen to pick up, waiting for her to be willing to listen to Will's explanation. Waiting to repair. Waiting for forgiveness. But she didn't hear it.

It rang.

And rang. Waiting to be heard.

Nothing.

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October 1999

"No I don't."

"What?"

"I don't have you. Not permanently. Not forever. Not the way I need to have you. And the worst part is that it's so easy to get absorbed in you. You touch me and I fall." Will stood up and looked confused as Karen said this, as if everything in their past had never happened. As if everything in their past didn't serve as an example. "I didn't really have you back then. You went back to the familiar. What would possibly make me think I have you now?"

"We're older. We know better. We know what happens when we see something we don't understand and don't wait around for explanations."

"You're pinning it on me?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I shouldn't have said that."

"I'm not the one who brought their boyfriend back to their apartment. I'm not the one who decided to end it without warning."

"That's not what I was doing that night."

"Oh, come on, Will…"

"And I thought we weren't supposed to talk about any of this. Wasn't this part of the agreement? We don't rehash the past, and in turn, we keep sneaking around?"

"We both knew that was going to be broken at some point."

"I just want you to listen to me. I want you to give me a chance to explain everything that happened that night. It was a misunderstanding, a series of bad decisions. And if that's what's holding you back from completely handing yourself over to whatever it is we're doing, then I'd really love to clear it all up."

She looked at him for a moment, not wavering. Whatever her reasons for waiting were, it was killing him.

"Close the door," she ordered. Will did as she asked before looking back at her, waiting. She took a breath and sighed.

"I'm listening."


	12. Take Me Home

October 1999

"I was stupid."

She scoffed as he said that, and he knew what she was thinking, but he continued before she could get a word in. "I was going to break it off, once and for all. I tried to do it at dinner that night, but I didn't want to do that in a public place. I had been with him for a while; he deserved something more than a cop-out breakup. You were all I wanted; there was no way I would ever go back to him willingly. But I was stupid enough to let him alone in the apartment when I went out, and that's when you walked in. I called your phone that night…god, I don't remember how many times, but I kept trying. You never answered. It wasn't like I didn't try to get you back."

Karen looked at him for a moment. She wasn't sure what he was expecting from her, and if Will had to be honest, he didn't know what to expect. "Why should I believe you?" she asked, sharply at the beginning, but she was starting to soften.

"I've never lied to you before. Why would I start now?"

He was right; it was part of the reason she fell so fast. He could never hide the truth from her;

She threw herself down on the bed, turned her head so he wouldn't see her tears. Of course she believed him. Honesty was the only thing they could depend on in their relationship, the only constant. "I married him because of this." Something so heavy shouldn't be told with such simplicity, but there was no other way Karen could have gone about it.

"What?"

"That's why I came over that night. He asked…no, told me to marry him. I didn't give him an answer; I wanted to tell you how ridiculous it was before I told him I couldn't do it. But then I saw Michael and I thought you chose him over me. And I thought it was stupid to throw away a sure thing."

Oh god. It was all because of him. He was the one who led her to choose everything she wanted to run away from. She wouldn't say it was his fault—he knew that if he voiced this, she would deny it, say that in the end, it was she who made this decision—but he felt it. Will sat down on the bed, leaned back to meet Karen at eye level. "We could change that. It's not too late."

The tears welling in her eyes wouldn't go away, and it killed him. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Well, the way I see it, you could stay here, or you could come with me. I'll help you figure out how to deal with him. You'll tell him you can't stay in this relationship anymore, that you both deserve to be happy and you're not happy. We can start over again, without any of those obstacles that were in our way before."

There it was, a slight smile beginning to take over her features. "We can't do that. It can't be that easy."

"Why not?"

Well. She didn't really have an answer for that. Why couldn't it be that simple? Why couldn't they set a precedent? As much as she had come to hate taking refuge in this spare room, it was all she could think of to get away. And now Will was offering what they so desperately wanted before but knew they couldn't have. Why not jump at it? Why not?

"You really think we can do this." Karen said this not as a question, but as a piece of information she needed confirmation on.

"I know we can. I love you."

It was the first time she heard him say that since she came to him in September. On some level, Karen knew it, he didn't have to say it, but she was longing to hear it. Really hear it. Those words spoken and meant, not spoken to appease. She couldn't kid herself; he hadn't changed in five years. They could try to pretend that they had changed, but when it came down to it, they still needed a change. She could grab it, she could cling to it this time, not let it go. She could put up a bigger fight for what she wanted, so desperately wanted. It could be that easy. That simple. She needed simplicity. She needed him. She could leave with him.

Why not?

"I don't know what you want me to do, Karen," Will said.

She smiled. Got up from the bed and pulled a suitcase from the space below. She had packed it a few months ago in an attempt to leave Stan, as if she actually had a plan. She couldn't take it that night, all of the things that were bothering her about Stan had intensified, wouldn't leave her alone, and she wanted out. Rushing to her closet, she grabbed a few changes of clothing and stuffed them into the suitcase and was ready to go.

But she realized she didn't know where to go. She didn't have a plan past packing. So she made her way to the spare bedroom and slid the suitcase under the bed, keeping it for a time when she had a clue on how to leave. Last month, she thought she would finally be able to use it. She thought maybe this time with Will would be different, and they would follow through on all the things they so whimsically talked about during those nights between the sheets, after they had made love.

Knowing it was there, knowing she could so easily walk out the door when she figured everything out, was comforting to her.

And it didn't hurt to have it easily accessible now.

"I don't know what you want me to do," Will said again. She didn't realize she hadn't spoken; she was too wrapped up in her thoughts of freedom.

Karen looked at Will, brushed her lips against his. "I want you to take me home," she said.

She went to him a month ago. But she's staying with him to feel beautiful. She's staying with him to feel loved. She's staying with him despite the chance of getting caught—someone could walk in and see it all, Stan could make an untimely entrance right now, but at this point, she didn't care, even wanted him to come in so he could see what she looked like happy. She's staying with him to feel that every move she made never went unappreciated; he seemed grateful for the flip of her hair, the arch of her brow, the tilt of her head as her fingers run down his chest. She's staying with him to feel validated, to feel that yes, she was a real person who could be seen and heard. She's staying with him to feel alive, that her body wasn't just going through the motions of life in order to trick everyone on the outside.

But most of all, she's staying with him because she fell for him five years ago, and she never recovered.

It was that two-step process she used to love and hate in equal measure. But it hooked her, and she didn't mind it.

That two-step process.

Touch me. Fall.


End file.
